<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Champion by justasock_x</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26585164">Champion</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/justasock_x/pseuds/justasock_x'>justasock_x</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>M A N I A by Fall Out Boy [7]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anal Sex, Bottom!Jaskier, Loose interpration of mythology, M/M, No Beta, Nonhuman!Jaskier, Top!Geralt</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 12:42:25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,502</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26585164</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/justasock_x/pseuds/justasock_x</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>There's a fog from the past that's giving me, giving me such a headache.</i>
</p><p>Jaskier and Geralt head to the coast to find answers.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia &amp; Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>M A N I A by Fall Out Boy [7]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1894084</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>85</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Champion</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Fics in this series are oneshots loosely based on the songs from the album M A N I A, by Fall Out Boy. Not beta-read, all mistakes are my own. Fandom knowledge comes exclusively from the TV series, other fics, and cursory Googling.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Winter in Kaer Morhen was a cold Jaskier had never experienced. The miserable bard was constantly shivering underneath his layers. Fine silks and satins were enough in the fancy southern courts, but up in the mountains, Jaskier was woefully underprepared to survive the weather. Geralt decided this was why he had made the trek into the small village at the base of the mountains as a break in the weather caused an early thaw. He ordered a thicker woolen cloak, two pairs of soft woolen trousers, and several thick, knitted sweaters from an elderly woman in the town market, and made plans with her to have the purchases picked up in a week’s time. </p><p>After he parted with a significant amount of coin for the order, Geralt led Roach by the reins over to the other stalls, perusing the items for sale without real interest. One stall was piled high with hand-carved walking sticks and canes, another with gleaming apples and smoked meats. Geralt was considering heading into the woods to hunt before going back to the keep, but a gleam of gold caught his eye at the next stall, and he found himself picking up a pair of delicate golden rings, turning them over in his rough hands. The young woman manning the stall watched him for a moment.</p><p>“Finest Aedirnian jewels in the one,” she drawled, coming closer to him to point out the tiny, sparkling golden stones embedded in the smaller ring. Geralt held it up so that the weak sun shining glinted off of the polished metal and shimmering jewels.</p><p>“How much?” he asked gruffly.</p><p>“Two hundred ducats,” the stallkeeper said, cocking a brow. “Must be a special lady, if you’re looking at Aedirnian jewels.”</p><p>Geralt made an agreeing noise as he considered the weight of his purse. He could splurge a little now and then take a few contracts in the neighboring villages once it started warming up, before he and Jaskier started to travel south. He tried to envision the delicate ring on Jaskier’s thin fingers, and he thought about how his magpie of a bard would crow at the shiny jewels.</p><p>“I’ll take them,” he said brusquely, counting out his coins and handing them over while she packaged them both. He tucked the intricate boxes into one of Roach’s saddlebags and put his coin purse back.</p><p>“Thank you for your purchase, Witcher,” the woman said as he prepared to depart. “I’m sure you’ve got a lovely lady waiting on you.” Her eyes were kind. Geralt offered her a tiny quirk of his lips, and led Roach back towards the trail that would lead him to the keep. When he returned to the market a week later to pick up his purchases for Jaskier, the ring boxes were still hidden in the saddlebag he’d put them in the day he bought them.</p>
<hr/><p>Geralt shook the snow off his cloak as he hung it in the entryway of the keep, hefting the tailor’s bags with one hand. Once he ascended the stairs of the tower, he entered their room to find Jaskier sitting at the desk, plucking his lute and then pausing to scribble with a quill. The bard perked up when Geralt came through the door, taking note of his full hands and standing to grab a package.</p><p>“What’ve you got here?” he asked curiously, eyeing the heavy cloak bag with interest. Geralt laid his purchases on the bed and waited for Jaskier to set his bundle down as well. </p><p>“I got you some things,” the Witcher explained, voice gruff. “You’re always so cold, so I thought this stuff would help.” He gestured at the bed, and Jaskier’s eyes followed his hand to the packages laid out.</p><p>The bard was still for a moment before he spoke, voice quiet and disbelieving. “This is all for me?” he asked, brow furrowed. “Geralt, this must’ve cost a fortune.”</p><p>“You’re uncomfortable,” the Witcher said in response, shrugging and feeling embarrassed. “These will keep you warm.” Jaskier’s eyes were soft as he went through the packages, and he approached the hulking man shifting at the foot of the bed, looking decidedly dour in the face of his own obvious happiness.</p><p>“Thank you,” the bard said simply, pressing a sweet kiss to Geralt’s tightly-pressed mouth. “Everything looks soft and warm. I’ll be comfortable for the rest of our stay, for sure.” Geralt hummed in satisfaction, slowly allowing himself to relax.</p><p>They stood together and kissed for several moments until Jaskier pulled away with a pinched look on his face, pressing his hands to the Witcher’s chest.</p><p>“I really have to work on this chord progression while it’s fresh in my mind,” he said apologetically. Geralt laughed. “Can you go find someone to roll around in the snow with for a while?”</p><p>“Sure,” the Witcher agreed, releasing his bard and watching with amusement as Jaskier was drawn back over to the desk, fingers already reaching for the abandoned quill. He was humming under his breath. “I’ll go find Eskel,” Geralt added after a beat of silence, huffing when his words got only an absent note of acknowledgment. </p><p>Geralt and Eskel sparred for a while and then went hunting, emerging with several hares between them that could be used for the evening’s supper. Yennefer had started growing vegetables using a combination of magic and science that appeared to baffle and delight Jaskier in equal turns, and Jaskier himself had taken to baking the breads and cakes that went with after-dinner coffees and wines. It was altogether a more domestic winter than Geralt could ever recall experiencing previously at the keep. </p><p>Winter passed in a haze of blizzards, stolen moments with Jaskier in nooks and crannies all over the keep, and a steady regiment of training and research into Jaskier’s possible roots that kept them busy until spring began to bloom in the air. Jaskier seemed to bloom just as surely, rising early and chattering cheerfully with anyone who would listen to him. He took to strolling the grounds around the keep, clad in his oversized sweaters and mindful of Geralt’s warning not to wander too far out of sight. The woods surrounding Kaer Morhen were just as dangerous as any other, the Witcher had reminded him sternly, and he’d not appreciate finding Jaskier gutted in a tree.</p><p>Jaskier spent his time instead strumming his lute, picking potion and salve ingredients, and weaving flower crowns out of wildflowers that he placed delicately on top of anyone who would stand still long enough. This included Vesemir, Roach, and Yennefer. Vesemir had leveled the bard with an unimpressed look but had left his atop his head, while Roach had knocked hers off to eat and Yennefer had threatened to break the bard’s spindly fingers if they ever came near her again. Geralt was busy preparing rations to last them until they made it to the closest city after the keep, hunting and salting and drying and packing. Part of him preferred that Jaskier spent his time out of doors, entertaining himself so he wasn’t underfoot. Geralt was good at packing and preparing for travel, and he did it best when he wasn’t disturbed.</p><p>Yennefer left a week before them, citing a need to seek out a mage she knew who owed her a favor. Geralt led her to the edge of the keep’s protections and watched from a short distance as she opened a portal. The other side was warm and sunny, a gentle breeze blowing the fragrance of honeysuckle towards him and the sound of a bustling market square. His nose wrinkled. Yennefer offered a wave.</p><p>“Safe travels,” she said, stepping through and closing the portal. Geralt nodded to himself and turned around, making his way back up the trail.</p><p>By the time Geralt deemed them ready to travel, Jaskier had helped him make enough potions and salves to last them a good while, and Roach and Sugar’s saddlebags were both fat with provisions. They bid farewell to the remaining Witchers at the keep, Geralt offering Vesemir a firm handshake and Jaskier giving him a sincere hug that seemed to alarm him if his wide eyes and fluttering hands were any indication. Eskel mussed the bard’s hair and laughed at his noise of complaint, giving Geralt a hug and a pat on the back. </p><p>“Stay safe, brother,” he said meaningfully, eyes drifting over to Jaskier. “You as well, songbird.”</p><p>“You too, Eskel,” Geralt said, before turning to lead Roach down the trail with Jaskier and Sugar right behind them. They rode in silence for a while, Jaskier enjoying the sunshine on his skin after so long in the cold, letting Sugar take her time following Roach while he fiddled with his lute. Geralt kept his eyes out for any sign of trouble, but they made it to the small village at the base of the mountains with little difficulty. The two boxes in the inner pocket of his jacket were starting to get dingy from being hidden away, and Geralt knew he needed to get it over with, despite how difficult words were for him.</p><p>They stayed at the small, filthy tavern in the village for an evening for free in exchange for Jaskier’s music. The bard obliged, and the little inn seemed a bit cozier with the smiles on everyone’s faces, voices joining in on the choruses they knew to encourage Jaskier to keep playing. The bard did so with great enthusiasm, and by the time he stopped he had a tidy pile of coin sitting in his lute case and two jam tarts from the older woman who ran the kitchen. He offered one to Geralt, who took it with a bemused expression. Jaskier bit into his own and let out a groan. </p><p>“Gods these are fantastic,” he murmured, finishing the small treat and licking his fingers. “Melt in your mouth like my mother’s did.” His expression got a little distant, a little wistful, and Geralt handed him his own tart to wipe the look away. Jaskier accepted it readily and finished it off, humming in satisfaction when it was gone and thoroughly distracted.</p><p>“Bless that woman.”</p><p>“Mm,” Geralt answered, amused. </p><p>“Honestly Geralt, that tart was better than any coin I’ve spent!” </p><p>Geralt rolled his eyes as he stood. “We’re leaving at first light, you should get some rest.”</p><p>“You’re in quite a hurry,” Jaskier noted as he followed the Witcher up the creaky stairs to their rented room. The bed was small and rickety, but they pressed themselves together, tangling legs and sharing breaths until the space didn’t seem so cramped.</p><p>“Can you at least tell me where we’re going?” the bard whined after a moment of silence. Geralt huffed out a breath and Jaskier poked him in the side. “Come on! Just a hint,” he begged.</p><p>“No. Go to sleep, little bird.”</p><p>He could practically hear the bard pouting.</p>
<hr/><p>They made good time to Kaedwen and Geralt picked up a contract and purse for killing a nest of drowners in the forested marshes at the edge of town. Oftentimes they slept under the stars and Geralt would glance down at the bard’s head resting on his chest and think, <em> I could do it right now</em>. The boxes were still hidden away, tucked securely in Roach’s saddlebags. Jaskier had either forgotten or given up on his idea that Geralt was keeping a secret, and was content to compose as they rode along, murmuring under his breath and sometimes asking for Geralt’s opinion, growing exasperated when the Witcher had nothing substantial to offer. He thought Jaskier’s process and his music were lovely, but he had no ear for rhythm or tone, and he wasn’t interested in the flowery metaphors Jaskier favored.</p><p>Spring turned into a blistering summer, and Jaskier’s fair skin tanned quickly. Geralt’s ever present paleness was indifferent to the sweltering heat, but Jaskier’s nose began to peel from sunburn, and his doublets were often half-unbuttoned and rolled at the sleeves. He complained loudly and with conviction, and so Geralt’s determined pace had to slow so that the bard could rest and bathe more often. He was still sturdier than a human, Geralt could see that now that he had started paying attention, but the bard still had more limitations than the Witcher and Geralt was helpless to do anything but soothe his companion.</p><p>It was nearly six weeks between contracts and travel before they finally reached Cidaris, and beyond that, the tiny inlet town where Geralt was owed a favor from a local magistrate. Jaskier had been staring blatantly since they reached the outskirts of Cidaris, his blue eyes filled with wonder at the signs of coastal life. They passed briefly through the market, Jaskier’s eyes catching on shining sea glass and glittering gemstones the color of the ocean and the sky, from the lightest gray-blue to a dark sapphire that was almost black. Geralt urged him along, promising to return to the market soon, and Jaskier was appeased enough to continue leading Sugar behind him. His head still swiveled around, even once they were traveling a quiet, sandy road towards the shore. </p><p>“What is this place?” Jaskier asked, once the small cottage came into view. “Geralt?”</p><p>Geralt stopped and let Jaskier catch up, waiting until the bard was standing shoulder to shoulder with him. He took the smaller man’s hand in his, turning it over carefully and running his calloused fingertips over the soft skin. </p><p>“You told me once,” the Witcher murmured, “that you wanted to go to the coast. So here we are.” He gestured with one arm towards the shore. “We can stay a week, and then we’ll need to move on, but we can visit the market tomorrow, and I’ll fish for dinner tonight if you gather firewood and herbs to cook with.”</p><p>Jaskier’s eyes were as blue as the ocean lapping against the shore, and shone even more brilliantly. He brought their twined hands up to his lips and pressed a kiss to the scars on Geralt’s knuckles.</p><p>“Thank you,” he whispered. “Geralt, it’s absolutely amazing. Thank you.” Geralt felt like he might blush, despite never having done so, and swallowed hard to quell the notion. </p><p>“Well,” he said gruffly, moving away from the bard and taking up Roach’s reins. “Let’s get settled in then, I suppose.”</p><p>The cottage had two rooms. One was a modest sized living space with a small table and two chairs, a hearth and two armchairs, a wash basin with counter space, and a wood-fired stove for cooking. The second room was smaller, with a cozy-looking mattress heaped with blankets and a wash basin in the corner. A nightstand next to the bed held a small book of Scripture, and Jaskier began to flip through with interest as Geralt stowed their things away.</p><p>“I’m going to find us some dinner,” Geralt informed Jaskier after he was done. “Herbs and firewood, remember?” Jaskier made an absent noise of acknowledgment, his brow furrowed at something he was reading. </p><p>“Jaskier?” Geralt prodded after another moment passed without the bard moving. He coughed and nodded, setting the book down and following Geralt outside. The Witcher went towards the shore and Jaskier headed into the sparse woodlands near the quaint cottage, finding enough dry wood for the evening and some greens, rosemary, and sea kale to cook with the fish. Geralt brought back fish and seaweed, and together they sat and watched as the cooking fire roasted the meal.</p><p>“It’s nice out here, isn’t it?” Jaskier asked after they were finished eating. He had wheedled Geralt into following him outside to watch the sun set, and the Witcher had to admit that it was quite a sight, sitting on the shore with Jaskier pressed against him. The sun sinking bled red and pink into the sky, the ocean below going deep and dark as the light faded. Soon enough the only light came from the moon, fat and full as it reigned over the sky, the stars twinkling in the cloudless night. Geralt felt his hand twitch towards his pocket and cleared his throat.</p><p>“I want to ask you something,” he said carefully, pulling them both to their feet.</p><p>“Okay,” the bard answered, unsure as he watched Geralt with a raised brow. “What is it?”</p><p>Geralt took the box out of the pocket of his breeches and held it in his hand a moment before he looked at Jaskier. “Not all of the kingdoms recognize intimacies such as ours,” he said, meeting the bard’s gaze. “And we cannot be married, in the traditional sense. But I would pledge myself to you, Julian Pankratz, and ask you to pledge yourself to me, for however long we have on this miserable Earth.” </p><p>As he spoke, he could see Jaskier's breathing speed up. One of the bard’s hands came up to his mouth. Geralt took the chance to open the box and show it to the bard, who took it with shaking hands. Geralt reached into the collar of his tunic and pulled out the band of leather he’d taken to wearing around his throat to reveal the ring attached to it. Jaskier let out a wet noise and thrust the box back at Geralt. The Witcher’s stomach sank as he took it, mouth turning downward until Jaskier spoke, his voice thin and shaky.</p><p>“Put it on me,” he requested, holding out a slim-fingered hand. Geralt took it in one of his own much larger ones, and carefully slid the ring onto Jaskier’s finger. It rested there like it belonged. Jaskier reached out wordlessly, and Geralt allowed him to untie the leather band from around his throat, the ring falling into the bard’s palm. Jaskier handed the tie back to Geralt and then took his hand as well, sliding his ring into place. The Witcher’s eyes were soft when they met the bard’s, and Jaskier came willingly when Geralt pulled him into a kiss.</p><p>“I don’t know even half of the things I want to know about you,” Geralt admitted once they parted, foreheads resting together and rings glinting in the moonlight. “But I’ll spend my life finding them out, Jaskier. I promise you that.”</p><p>Jaskier’s grip on Geralt tightened for a moment. “Let’s go to bed,” he said finally, stepping away. Geralt tangled their fingers together as they walked back up the shore, the cool metal of the ring around Jaskier’s finger nearly burning his skin.</p><p>They went to the market the next morning, and Geralt watched with mild amusement as Jaskier flitted from stall to stall, making exclamations and flattering declarations at every person he saw. He waxed poetic at a wizened old man about his hand-carved pipes, offered a sweet couplet to a woman selling flowers in exchange for a buttercup, and pouted thoroughly until Geralt allowed him to put it delicately behind his ear, tucking the silvery hair out of the way to make sure it stayed put.</p><p>“There,” Jaskier announced, folding his arms as he stepped back, his eyes twinkling. “Not so scary-looking now, are you Witcher?” he teased.</p><p>“Hm,” Geralt answered, fingers playing over a set of finely-carved steel daggers with ivory handles. Jaskier caught him staring and rolled his eyes, disappearing down the way to get himself some lunch.</p><p>The pair caught up to one another barely an hour later. Jaskier had found a delightful seafood stew and home-brewed wine for lunch and was feeling pleasantly tipsy. Geralt had his swords sharpened and purchased a new dagger and some preserved fish and vegetables for the road. Geralt was drawn to the sound of a lute being strummed and found Jaskier with his case open and a small group of people crowded around him, singing along as he played. The bard offered him an apologetic smile but carried on, and Geralt shrugged and folded his arms, content to watch the spontaneous performance. </p><p>The audience was engaged but eventually began to disperse in search of food or wares elsewhere in the market, and Jaskier pocketed the coin he’d made and stowed his lute away carefully. A young woman lingered nearby, twirling a red curl around a thin fingertip as she watched the bard pack his things up with a bitten lip and coy eyes. Jaskier looked up, searching for Geralt, but found his way blocked as the pretty girl stepped up to greet him.</p><p>“Hi,” she said, smiling widely and showing off even, white teeth. “I’m Anna. You’re quite a performer.”</p><p>“Thank you, miss,” Jaskier said politely, taking her proffered hand and giving it a soft kiss. “I always appreciate feedback from my audience. If you’ll excuse me, though, I must be off.” He slung his case over his back and turned towards Geralt, but before he could get far Anna had snagged his elbow.</p><p>“Off so soon?” she asked, pouting dramatically. “I was hoping we could chat about your process. Music is so fascinating.”</p><p>“I apologize,” the bard returned, his voice growing firm. “But I really must be going.”</p><p>He extricated himself as politely as possible, flashing her the ring on his left hand when she made to follow him. Anna frowned but let him go, and her eyebrows went up when she watched as he marched over to the Witcher brooding nearby. No one else noticed, but she saw the brush of their hands before they departed, and she smiled slightly. </p><p>That night, they made love on the shore, one of the softer blankets they had found in the cottage laid out beneath them. As the Witcher rocked into Jaskier’s pliant body, the bard’s thighs tight around his waist and the soft sound of the waves and Jaskier’s panting breath in his ear, Geralt thought this was the closest to a religious experience as he was ever likely to get. </p><p>“Gods but I love you,” Jaskier moaned as he arched and came, body tensing and then going lax as his release rolled through him. Geralt growled low in his chest, sucking a deep bruise into Jaskier’s throat as his hips stuttered and he released hot and wet, spilling into the bard’s body. </p><p>In some moments, Jaskier glowed as though he were otherworldly, and this was one of those times. The moon was in its waning phase but still bright in the clear sky, and it lit Jaskier’s skin and eyes until they were almost silver. The bard tapped his fingers against Geralt’s sternum until he found a beat that he liked, drumming it out for a few moments.</p><p>“And in the pale moonlight, my lover he did lie. He wore naught a stitch, with a gleam in his eye,” he sang softly, giggling as Geralt clapped a hand over his mouth with a pinched expression.</p><p>“Absolutely not,” the Witcher warned, and Jaskier rolled his eyes but stayed quiet when Geralt released him. “Come to bed,” he cajoled, standing and stretching before reaching for his breeches. “We’re meeting Yennefer’s contact tomorrow afternoon.” Jaskier perked up at that news and rose as well, sliding his breeches up but leaving them unlaced and drooping. He carried his and Geralt’s shirts in his arms, and when they got back to the cottage he set them aside in a basket to be laundered in the morning. After a moment of consideration, Jaskier shed his breeches again and tossed them in with the shirts to be washed, and then he crawled into the bed and patted the space next to him invitingly.</p><p>“Come now, Witcher, keep me safe from the horrors of the night.” </p><p>Geralt rolled his eyes and joined his bard in their rented bed, resting his head on Jaskier’s chest to fall asleep to the sound of his steady heartbeat. </p><p>Jaskier had picked up eggs and sausage at the market, and they cooked and ate their breakfast in comfortable companionship the next morning. The bard convinced Geralt to take a walk with him in the public gardens, and they spent the morning wandering the park, Geralt naming the animals he could hear while Jaskier listened with interest. The park was lush with greenery and blooming flowers, and Jaskier was thrilled by the large fountain at the center that depicted a beautiful, half-naked woman carved from marble. As the sun reached its apex in the sky, they left the gardens and headed into Cidaris proper. Geralt seemed to know where they were going, so Jaskier was content to follow him and let one eye wander as they passed through the city.</p><p>This late in the day, the town was bustling and noisy, people pushing through with carts and guiding horses by reins. The stink of summer was high in the air, and Geralt kept his head down and pushed forward, intent on his goal. Atop a hill in the distance, a stone manor loomed, and Jaskier made a sound in his chest when he noticed it.</p><p>“Who lives <em> there </em>?” he asked, voice low and surprised.</p><p>“Emmaline of Temeria,” Geralt answered, “and she’s our contact. She specializes in ancient worship and old gods, and she has a theory about you.”</p><p>Jaskier stared at him.</p><p>“What?” Geralt asked impatiently. </p><p>“<em>What</em>?” the bard repeated, mocking. “We’re talking about old gods now?” he demanded, crossing his arms. “What is wrong with me?” </p><p>“Nothing is wrong with you,” Geralt said immediately, then paused before asking, “Don’t you want to know?”</p><p>“Of course I do,” Jaskier answered, deflating like a pricked balloon. “I just don’t know that I’ll like what we find out.”</p><p>They reached the huge, gleaming doors of the manor and Geralt was unsurprised when they opened noiselessly without a word from either of them. He tied Roach and Sugar to two separate posts, and then he led the way into the large foyer. The floor was polished to a shine, a light wood that made the foyer seem even bigger than it was. It was fairly empty, with a coat rack and an umbrella stand and not much else. A grand staircase was off to the side in front of them, and Jaskier moved forward to run his hand over one of the lions’ heads carved into the two big posts at the bottom. </p><p>“Do you hear that?” the bard asked as Geralt looked around. He turned to look at Jaskier with a raised brow and a shake of his head, and the bard made a low noise in his throat.</p><p>“Interesting,” he said simply, before he turned and began to walk through the home.</p><p>“Jaskier!” Geralt snapped, hurrying to follow him. “What are you doing?”</p><p>“Shh,” the bard whispered back, fluttering one of his hands. “Quiet, I can barely hear it!”</p><p>Jaskier pushed through the house with a focus Geralt had rarely seen him possess. The smaller man wound through ornately carved furniture, delicate vases and sculptures, and large potted plants with barely a glance. The opulent manor was a place Geralt knew Jaskier would absolutely love to spend time, <em> ooh</em>ing and <em> ahh</em>ing over all of the finery, but instead the bard made his way to the back gardens, pushing through the glass double doors without a second of hesitation. The gardens weren’t big, but they were well cared for. A small, rocky path led from the edges of them right down to the sea, and there was a small pond with various sea creatures flitting about - Geralt noted some that were magical and some that were not. </p><p>A beautiful woman with a thick blonde braid was sitting by the pond, her fingertips dipping in as she murmured to herself. When Jaskier approached her, she glanced up and her pretty gray-blue eyes lit up.</p><p>“Oh, you must be the bard and the Witcher!” she cooed as she stood and offered her dry hand, completely unbothered to be found by two strange men in her home. Jaskier took it and kissed it gently. Geralt gave her a shrug of his shoulder but nothing else. She pouted.</p><p>“Awfully rude, isn’t he?” she asked Jaskier, who nodded sagely. Geralt growled in his throat and Jaskier chuckled.</p><p>“I’m Julian Pankratz, but please call me Jaskier. That’s Geralt,” he added, gesturing with his thumb at the imposing form behind him. </p><p>“Emmaline Tavuski,” the mage said, gesturing to the gardens. “Welcome to my home.”</p><p>“It’s lovely,” Jaskier told her sincerely. “Geralt said that Yennefer had spoken to you about, um. Well, about me.”</p><p>Geralt still hadn’t said much of anything, but he was watching the mage carefully. He could barely see the creases of crows feet at the corners of her brilliant eyes, and light laugh lines were starting to make themselves known around her mouth. She was quite, quite old to show signs of aging as a sorceress, and Geralt was impressed despite himself. A scholar of old gods indeed, he thought bitterly, she could’ve been one.</p><p>“Quite! I’ve spoken with Yennefer at length about you. I’d like to try an experiment, if you would indulge me,” Emmaline said, voice light. “It won’t hurt you, but it will help me.”</p><p>Jaskier glanced to Geralt, who nodded. “Alright, then,” he agreed, nervous.</p><p>Emmaline took Jaskier’s hand and gestured for Geralt to follow them back up into the house. Once inside, she weaved easily through her home, leading them upstairs and into a bright, airy workroom. The room’s ceiling was all glass, and various herbs hung in strands drying. Others were chopped neatly in piles on various tables, and still more were carefully tucked away in glass jars. Emmaline began to scan the containers quickly, plucking things as she went until she had a full assortment of ingredients. She set them all down on a table and allowed Geralt to inspect them.</p><p>Most of them, he noted, were sea-related: pure oceanic salt, tears of a water nymph, fur from the coat of a selkie. None of the ingredients looked like they could harm the bard in any way, so the Witcher nodded and Emmaline began to prepare her brew. Jaskier watched with obvious interest, but he winced when the potion sparked and started to smoke.</p><p>“I don’t have to drink that, do I?” he asked dubiously as she worked. She laughed, but didn’t answer. Geralt smirked.</p><p>Jaskier stared balefully at the mug Emmaline handed him shortly after, and then sniffed it. He recoiled. “It smells, um, kinda awful,” he admitted apologetically, glancing at her.</p><p>“I know,” the mage said, laughing slightly. “I’m sorry.”</p><p>Jaskier sighed and downed it with a wince, coughing to clear his throat once it was done. </p><p>“Ugh,” he said, making a face as he dropped the cup. Geralt caught it and set it down on the table while Emmaline moved to examine Jaskier. She picked up his hands, turning them over in hers with interest, and Geralt came closer to see what she was looking at. In between the spaces where Jaskier’s fingers met his hand, Geralt could see delicate, light-blue webbing beginning to form. Jaskier’s blue eyes, always bright, were now nearly glowing as he stared at Geralt in alarm. The man noticed the pallor to Jaskier’s skin, and when he touched the bard’s forearm he was surprised at the cold. </p><p>“How are you feeling?” Emmaline asked carefully, pushing Jaskier’s hair out of the way to lean in and examine his throat and up behind his ears. </p><p>“Like an experiment,” the bard said dryly before he was taking by a coughing fit. “I also really need some water.”</p><p>Emmaline handed him a cup and filled it with water, and he sipped greedily.</p><p>“So, some type of water creature, obviously,” Geralt mused as Jaskier refilled his cup and drained it once more. </p><p>“We should get him into the ocean,” Emmaline said, watching Jaskier with interest. “It might enhance the effects of the potion, especially since he’s been dormant his entire life.”</p><p>Geralt watched Jaskier finish another cup of water. “Alright,” he agreed, quirking his lips. “Might as well.”</p><p>As they walked down to the sea, it was like Jaskier was reinvigorated. The closer they got, the faster his legs moved, until he nearly broke into a run and crashed into the waves. Geralt startled and went to chase after him, but Emmaline put a steadying hand on his shoulder. Every muscle was tense as the Witcher scanned the shoreline for sight of the bard, and he only relaxed when a dark head popped up some distance into the waves, and a melodic sound reached his ears.</p><p>“He’s singing,” Geralt realized aloud. Emmaline made a noise in acknowledgement, also clearly surprised.</p><p>“He’s not a siren though,” she said, thinking out loud. “Not a selkie. But he does reek of old magic, doesn’t he?”</p><p>“He does?” Geralt asked, confused. He’d never noticed anything off about the bard, but Emmaline was much older and more powerful than he. </p><p>“Mm. Yennefer, I think, has a particularly fond attachment to you, Witcher, and she didn’t want to worry you unnecessarily, but whatever sired your bard is powerful. And it may yet come back for him.”</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>